In a society hell-bent upon forcing the maximum amount of discomfort upon its youth, there has been a sudden uprising against the idea of “safe spaces.” The rallying cry among the nay-sayers, the words painted with red ink on their metaphorical signs: “REAL LIFE HAS NO SAFE SPACES.”
Imagine you’re at work or school and your boss or professor that just really gets on your nerves is going at it today—there are insults, passive abuses during class or a meeting, even threats. By the end of the day, you’re exhausted. You want to be at home, on your couch, watching the next season of Daredevil with a bowl of ice cream in your lap. You pack your bags, get up from your seat and head home for the day—only to find your aggressor follows you home, onto your front porch, and into your living room.There is no reprieve.
This doesn’t happen in reality, of course. At the end of the day, there is always a safe place to go home to, somewhere to lay down and not have any hurtful comments or actions plaguing your waking moments—but not for everyone. Some people face abuse, insults, even assault every day, constantly, with no mental break. Society doesn’t allow it. Even at home, it is common to experience verbal and physical abuse, harassment and overall general discomfort among family. The struggle is real, and the anxiety is real for these people.
Today, “these people” generally tend to be individuals from the LGBTQIA+ community, people of color, and other groups that fall outside the “normal” standards society has set. It is these people that face the endless stream of hate in their lives. It is these groups with which the phrase “safe space” is often associated. Safe spaces were created as an area to gather with similar individuals with similar aggravations and similar fears. Safe spaces are needed to keep the negative stimuli out and to keep individuals healthy and mentally positive. (They do so much more than that, of course, but that is the idea of it.)
Safe spaces are often criticized as childish and as a way to baby individuals and keep them from facing reality. I would argue that it helps them keep returning to reality, instead of giving up entirely. Just as the average Joe has their home to retire to and rest, those who do not have that luxury take it upon themselves to create networks in which they can sustain each other, breathe, and live. It is incredibly brave, resourceful, and in no way childish.
I’ve been thinking about the need for safe spaces lately. Why should we need safe spaces? There should be no reason to set aside a space simply for comfort, support, and recovery. Real life should not be a threat to individuals’ sanity; waking up every day should not require a secret place to feel loved at the end of the day. When everyday life is so harsh and unsupportive—laced with curses, bigotry, and hate speech—that you need a separate space to recharge and fight another day, I would venture to say that it is not safe spaces and the people who use them who need readjusting, but rather the “everyday life” that makes them necessary that need to be transformed.
“Real life has no safe space.” Maybe it’s time that was changed.
